A.N: A little over four years ago I found ff.n for the first time, and almost the first story I read was Prowl/Jazz, I wish I could remember which story it was and credit it, but I just can't. In my mind they have been the perfect couple ever since, and because of that I think I will always be nervous about this chapter, but it's as good as I can make it, and my only hope is that it's good enough. Enjoy. FB.
Part 7
Wheeljack hadn't expected company, hardly anyone had visited his quarters since he had been given them thirty cycles earlier, and it was late, but never the less when he looked up from his work he found Jazz standing by the door, watching him.
"You should have said something," he chided his friend and commander lightly. "I hope you haven't been there long."
"Less than a breem," Jazz said quietly. "You look busy, I should just go."
Wheeljack had had a moment to really look at the younger mech by then, he'd noticed the slight slump in his usually graceful posture and the frustration and worry in his optics. "What's wrong Jazz?" he asked warmly.
"Nothing," Jazz was instantly on the defensive, and starting to back out.
"Don't give me that," Wheeljack scolded him. "Everything you are is in your optics, I can tell something's bothering you."
Jazz studied the floor intently, reminding Wheeljack of a youngling he had known long before the war, and making him wonder just how old Jazz was. "There was a bit of trouble after you left the training ground," Jazz admitted hesitantly.
"How much is a bit?" the engineer asked.
"Sideswipe took offence to something the instructor said, I stepped between them to put a stop to it, and Sunstreaker blind-sided me. It took me, Hound and 'Breaker to subdue the twins. Hound's medical getting a shoulder-strut realigned, and the twins are in the Brig," Jazz finished with forced humour.
Wheeljack shook his head sympathetically. "Everything will work out," he assured his friend. "Sunny and Sides think they know everything already, and being cooped up like this isn't easy on any of us, but it won't be long now before we start going out on missions and it will all fall into place then."
"I wish I shared your confidence," Jazz murmured.
"If you had anymore confidence you'd probably explode," Wheeljack said lightly. "You're Jazz," he added emphasising the name to make it sound impressive. "Half the recruits here are already telling your stories and the rest stop and stare when you walk into a room. No one's had a training record to match yours since Ultra Magnus was here and look where he..." he broke off suddenly as he noticed a shudder run through his friend's frame.
He tilted his head to one side in bewilderment and stepped around the work-bench as the shudder became a shake, "Hey," he said softly. "It's alright." Things were clearly far from alright, but he needed to buy himself some time and he figured that a little reassurance couldn't do any harm. Slowly, cautiously and giving Jazz plenty of time to step away Wheeljack wrapped the younger mech in a comforting embrace. "Talk to me."
"I... I... don...'t think...I'm cut out... for this," Jazz stammered as he fought for mastery of his systems, which were rapidly spiralling out of his control. "I'm no commander, I was a fool to think I could be, and you'll be fools to follow me," he continued in a rush before his intakes stalled completely, and he buried his face in Wheeljack's shoulder.
"Hush now," Wheeljack muttered soothingly. "Listen to me, don't try to do anything, let your automatic systems do the work."
For a long moment nothing was said, and Wheeljack found himself rubbing slow, gentle circles across his friend's back, and hoping that he was helping. It seemed that he was as Jazz slowly regained control of his systems.
"I'm sorry," Jazz whispered as soon as he was able. "I can't believe I did that," he added looking truly ashamed of himself.
"Our training is designed to test all of us to our limits Jazz," Wheeljack reminded him. "We all have them, and we all react differently to them. I happen to know that Trailbreaker almost took his shuttle and left a few cycles ago, Hound talked him out of it and now he's more determined than ever. That's what makes us a team, one of us may stumble from time to time, but there will always be someone there to catch him."
"Thanks," Jazz said gratefully, although he still looked mortified.
Wheeljack started to pull away, but he stopped when his hand brushed a panel in Jazz's side. "What's this?" he asked as he lifted his friend's arm to get a better look. "You should be in medical with that," he added as his actions revealed a deep dent in Jazz's armour.
"Sunny got in a lucky punch before I could stop him," Jazz explained. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want to make things worse for him."
"I'll take care of it then," Wheeljack offered. "Just go, lie..." he paused for an instant as he realised that the only space big enough to accommodate Jazz was his recharge pad that was tucked away in the corner, "...down. I'll just get my tools."
If Jazz noticed his hesitation he gave no sign of it and picked his way across the room. "You've got more space than any of the rest of us," the black and white observed. "And I know that you arrived here with next to nothing, and yet anyone would think that you've been here for vorns."
"You should have seen my lab back in Kaon," Wheeljack retorted with a chuckle. "I had a service drone to clean for me back then, but I still couldn't tell you what colour the floor was," he handed over a small container of energon. "Here, while I work you drink this; your energy levels are a little low."
Jazz inspected the offering, "Where in the world did you get high-grade?" he gaped. He knew for a fact that there was hardly any of the strong concoction in the city.
"I helped the Wreckers out, they gave it to me," Wheeljack answered as he detached the buckled plate.
"The Wreckers? Really?" Jazz asked in obvious surprise. Everyone knew about the Wreckers, they were the best Special Ops unit Nova Cronum had ever commissioned, their stories were told by nearly every instructor in the city, and they never failed to inspire. Jazz himself had only caught glimpses of the legendary mechs, and couldn't help feeling a little envious of Wheeljack for actually meeting them.
Wheeljack averted his optics modestly. "Roadbuster was from Kaon, like me. He was in the Security Services back then, and my creator used to commission mods and upgrades for him, when he heard I was here he looked me up," he explained quickly.
"So what did you do for them?" Jazz asked, eager to hear the whole story.
"The biggest problem any Special Ops team has when they're on missions is communications, all comms go through the nearest hub, and if that is under Deception control any message could get them all killed. Impactor came up with the idea of a virus to slow the hub down, just by fractions of an astro-second, long enough for a message to be received and deleted, genius really, but he needed a tech-mech to work out a few of the kinks, and fortunately I was able to help. Roadbuster gave me the high-grade as a thank you."
"Then I can't drink it, you earned it," Jazz protested. "And honestly the stuff doesn't do me any favours."
"High-grade is better when it's shared. Just have a little," Wheeljack said encouragingly.
Reluctantly Jazz poured himself a tiny amount into a drinking vessel and sipped the strong energon, almost immediately he felt it tingle through his circuits, revitalising him, and making him feel more alert, but he knew enough to know that the sensation was a lie.
Wheeljack continued talking as he worked, explaining the virus and a few other devices he was working on, within a breem Jazz was having difficulty following his words, but the sound of his friends voice was so soothing. Soon the pain he had been in faded away, and seemed to take the last of his energy reserves with it.
A few breems later Wheeljack sat back and cast a critical optic over his work, the dent was hardly noticeable, the damage beneath it had been patched up, and Jazz's internal repair systems would easily take are of the rest. "Probably long before you come out of recharge," he told his slumbering friend. "Rest well Jazz."
The problem Wheeljack faced was that Jazz now occupied the only berth and he was in need of some recharge himself. Well, it's not like we haven't shared a berth before, he shrugged, and taking care not to disturb Jazz he laid down and began his own recharge cycle.
At first Wheeljack wasn't quite sure what had brought him back online, almost immediately he realised that he wasn't alone and remembered why, then he heard a peculiar sound; it was Jazz.
The noise was spark-wrenching, a distressed keening that seemed to drill through Wheeljack where their frames touched. "Oh Jazz," he murmured sympathetically as the reason for the noise occurred to him. "How long have you been like this?"
Memory-echoes weren't that uncommon among Cybertronians, a traumatic event, or an extremely pleasant moment, could easily play on a 'bots processor, and rerun itself while they recharged, judging by Jazz's reaction whatever he was reliving wasn't nice.
Cautiously Wheeljack gathered the black and white into his arms, Jazz stilled instantly and all signs of tension disappeared. Wheeljack smiled to himself and settled back down.
It felt like less than a breem later when he was forced back online again by a comm from Trailbreaker. "What is it?" he asked grumpily.
"Sorry to bother you 'Jack," Trailbreaker apologised. "I know it's late, but I only just get out of medical with Hound, did you hear about what happened?"
"The trouble with the twins? Yes," Wheeljack answered.
"I just figured that I should check in with Jazz before I turned in, but he's not in his quarters or the rec room, have you seen him?"
"I still can," Wheeljack said, although in truth he couldn't see much more than a shadowy outline, but he could feel Jazz in his arms well enough. "He's been here for a while, he was a bit stressed at first, but he's calmed down completely now."
"That's good," Trailbreaker sounded truly relieved. "I've been worried about him since it all kicked off, and I should have called him earlier, but I didn't realise that my comm-link had been damaged."
"I'm fine 'Breaker," Jazz's casual tone transmitted through the link. "And I would have answered sooner but 'Jack gave me some high-grade and it's left me feeling a little fuzzy. I'll see you in the morning. Take care of Hound."
"Yes sir," Trailbreaker responded happily. "Oh, and 'Jack," he added, "don't let Jazz have too much of the good stuff unless you want him to start bouncing off the walls," and with his warning issued Trailbreaker cut the link.
Wheeljack chuckled and looked in Jazz's direction. "I thought you were still in recharge."
"The comm brought me back online, but by the time I realised what was going on you were already talking to him," Jazz said lazily. "High-grade isn't my friend, and I couldn't figure out where I was, or who I was with for that matter."
"I didn't think you'd mind," Wheeljack said awkwardly. "We've shared a berth before, and I only have the one."
Jazz smiled, but Wheeljack could only tell because of the tone of his voice. "I don't mind," he assured the engineer. "I just don't remember being this comfortable last time."
"Only because I came back online first," Wheeljack informed him, and he watched with amusement as Jazz's optics darkened in embarrassment. "This seems to be your natural recharge position," he didn't mention that this time it had been him who had done the snuggling up for the simple reason that Jazz was relaxed and happy, and he saw no reason to bring up the memory-echoes just yet.
"You're not pulling away though," Jazz pointed out.
"No, I'm not," it seemed that it was Wheeljack's turn to feel abashed. He hated to admit it but he'd felt an attraction towards Jazz from the moment they'd met. The mechs charm, humour and natural grace were qualities he admired, but Wheeljack wasn't sure if that moment was a good time to say anything.
He chose not to, instead he moved one finger slightly along an amour seam on Jazz's hip, the barest of caresses, a move that could easily be dismissed as an accident if Jazz reacted badly, but still gave him a sense of satisfaction.
"I'm your commanding officer, and your friend," Jazz said gently. "And, more importantly, I've never managed to keep a relationship going for more than a few cycles. You deserve better than me, and more than I can offer you."
"Maybe that's not what I'm asking for," Wheeljack whispered, emboldened by the fact that Jazz hadn't moved at all despite his words. "I know that if nothing else you can't afford the distraction of a lover, we could call this a one-night thing, or stress relief if you want," Jazz still wasn't pulling back, and although part of Wheeljack's processor was calling him all kinds of idiot, another much louder part was telling him that it was now or never. He retracted his face-mask, and moved closer so that they were optic to optic. "Or you can tell me to stop."
His kiss was gentle, undemanding, the perfect first kiss in his opinion, although he nearly ruined it by freezing up in shock when Jazz returned it.
"You know we shouldn't be doing this, right?" Jazz asked when they broke apart.
"I thought that was half the fun," Wheeljack responded, the wondrous feelings that came with having Jazz pressed so close to him were making him reckless, and he couldn't bring himself to care about what they should, or shouldn't, be doing.
"Will you regret this in the morning?" Jazz asked seriously, but he spoilt his best commanders tone by softly running his hand down Wheeljack's side.
"I might regret not doing this sooner," Wheeljack replied with a grin.
The change in Jazz's optics was instantaneous, one moment they looked unsure, if a little curious, the next moment they were nothing short of predatory. "This is just for tonight," Jazz stated clearly.
Wheeljack could only nod and Jazz didn't give him time to do, or say, anything else. When he looked back on the experience later Wheeljack couldn't be sure how they went from laying side by side to him being on his back with Jazz straddling him so quickly, they simply did and he didn't question it at the time because Jazz's hands suddenly seemed to be everywhere.
As many of his sensory circuits went off at once, it occurred to Wheeljack that he really should be doing something other than laying back and letting Jazz do all the work, and with a supreme effort he grazed his fingers down Jazz's thighs, which tightened around him pleasurably, but when he tried to reach higher Jazz caught him by the wrists, and stopped him.
"Later," Jazz said simply as he resumed his self-appointed task of mapping out each and every one of Wheeljack's sensors.
Wheeljack thought about protesting that things were maybe moving a little too fast, but when Jazz's clever fingers found a particularly sensitive bundle of wires at the base of his neck he found that he couldn't think of anything to say other than, "Oh Primus."
He could feel his spark racing, his plating heating up as his coolant lines battled to keep up with the rush of energon that his body needed to fuel his sensory net, and of coarse Jazz's marvellous hands, but there was nothing else. He had to concentrate just to remember his own name, but that seemed unimportant, and when Jazz's lip-components caught his in a searing kiss that Wheeljack was sure should have reduced him to a pile of ash he knew only one designation, "Jazz!"
The sound of hearing another mech crying out his name with such lust was music to Jazz's audios, it had been too long since he had last felt so alive, so in control, and the thrill of feeling his lover writhe in pleasure was intoxicating.
Wheeljack bucked against the black and white as Jazz's energy-field ripped through him like a laser-knife and tripped most of the more responsive areas that his hands had already discovered. He wanted to say that he couldn't last much longer, and if Jazz sensed his closeness it only served to make him push harder.
Then all of a sudden, and just as Wheeljack's systems started to yield to the seemingly inevitable overload, everything stopped except for the vents that were working frantically to cool his systems. Stunned by the lack of sensation Wheeljack was still unable to think of anything else to do, then Jazz's lip-components pressed down on his in a kiss that seemed to go all the way to his peds, and the energy-field blazed through him again sending all of his systems wild, and releasing an overload the like of which Wheeljack had never experienced before.
"That was amazing," Wheeljack heard Jazz murmur through the pleasant haze. The black and white had shifted again, was now laying by his side and curled around him.
"But you didn't..." Wheeljack started to say, but Jazz cut him off.
"Sometimes it isn't about that, sometimes I just like to watch," the gentle kiss that followed his words drove all thoughts from Wheeljack's processor, except for the one that told him to keep going.
His persistence paid off and soon Jazz was wriggling pleasantly against him, and whimpering in delight.
The mood between them had changed completely, Jazz was no longer forcing ahead, he was letting Wheeljack set the pace, and the touches they exchanged were tender and gentle.
Jazz's hand brushed against the panel that protected Wheeljack's interface cable and asked an unspoken question, Wheeljack didn't need any further encouragement and as soon as the link was made Jazz's desire and elation crashed through his systems, but whatever lay beyond those emotions was out of Wheeljack's reach. Firewalls, he realised, good ones too.
He didn't mind, every bot had the right to protect themselves, and the thrill of what he could feel from Jazz was more than enough anyway.
This time their energy-fields rose as one, meshing together and merging perfectly. With Jazz's systems already running hot it wasn't long before the black and white was hovering on the brink of overload, but Wheeljack couldn't seem to push him further, every touch or emotion was countered, and pushed back through their uplink driving Wheeljack closer, but keeping Jazz balanced.
For more than a breem Jazz held his own, the engineer was impressed and frustrated by this, but then in a flash of inspiration he remembered that Jazz had been a musician, and possessed a pair of fine-tuned audios, "You're beautiful," he whispered his voice heavy with desire, and he felt Jazz's resolve weaken, surely he couldn't take much more, "Let go for me," Wheeljack growled and Jazz was only too happy to oblige.
Jazz's excess energy blazed through the link, if his first overload had been a high then this one was nothing short of stellar, and left Wheeljack feeling as if he'd been reduced to a cinder and then remade.
"Is it always like that for you?" Wheeljack asked once he could speak without stuttering.
Beside him Jazz was still trembling in the aftermath. "Just sometimes," the black and white whispered. "It's been a while since I had it that good though."
Wheeljack placed one kiss on Jazz's lip-components and then a final one between Jazz's optics before he closed his face-mask and wrapped his arms round his lover.
"Thank you," he heard the black and white say in the softest of whispers.
Wheeljack chuckled, "You've just given me two of the best overloads of my life, but you're thanking me, that makes no sense."
"I mean it," Jazz protested. "I've been struggling for cycles, questioning myself, worrying, barely making it through, just surviving, but it's as if you've brought me back to life, and I know I can deal again."
"Well I don't get much of this sort of interest often, if you need me again you know where to find me."
"'Jack..." Jazz said softly but Wheeljack didn't let him get any further.
"I'm not asking for anything," he said seriously, "you owe me nothing, and I won't make demands. All I'm offering you is the chance to relax when you need it, a sanctuary from the rest of the world and the toll that it takes on you."
"Sanctuary," Jazz repeated in a tone that told Wheeljack that he was almost back in recharge. "I like the sound of that."
